


With A Little Help From My Vamp Friends

by Multi_Stan_Problems



Category: Supernatural, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multi_Stan_Problems/pseuds/Multi_Stan_Problems
Summary: They sparkle?
Kudos: 5





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya. So this is an old fanfic I wrote in 10th grade back in 2009 and it was one of the first fanfics I ever published on fanfiction.net. My username then was OfCabbages'N'Kings. As you can probably tell, I no longer post to that account. Some of those fics will be transferred over to here because except for this one, none of them are finished. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this Supernatural/Twilight crossover fanfiction that came from the pique of my emo phase. :)

"Dean, how many of those have you had?"

"I don't know. I stopped counting after like, three."

It was another late night for the Winchester brothers. They were broke and stuck in a backwater hick town in a lousy motel. They both had been working the poker and pool tables for awhile until Dean decided to challenge another person to a drinking game. From there, Dean kept the guys coming. Sam decided to intervene when he finally seemed unable to sit upright by himself, which only took six rounds. 

As Sam pulled Dean through the door of the honky-tonk, a few weird, pale people stared after them. Sam didn't make eye contact, but Dean waved as he stumbled by and said very loudly, "Hey! Wanna come to place?" The laughter that erupted behind them was cut off as the door slammed shut.

"Come on Sam! I could have taken on that one guy and totally whooped his ass!"

"Dean, you should hear yourself. It's like talking to you in slow mo!" Dean swaying, rubbed his drunken eyes and stared at Sam. He looked like a lost puppy.

"Let's get you into a bed." Sam gripped Dean's arm and tried to pull him around to the passenger side. Dean grabbed the driver's side door instead. 

"Dude, what the hell?"

"I'm driving!"

"You can't see straight. No way."

"I am!"

"You're not driving!"

"To hell I am! I'm not as think as you drunk I am." Sam rolled his eyes.

"You'll just crash the car," Sam pointed out. Dean grumbled, but stumbled to the other side. 

"Don't screw around," he mumbled as he slouched into the passenger seat. No remark came. Dean opened his eyes, "Sam?"

No answer.

It seemed to take forever for Dean's head to turn. He stared at the empty seat beside him and looked at the open door which cold air blew in through. He dragged himself across the seat and looked at the ground outside. The Impala's keys glinted on the ground. He picked them up and looked around.

"Sam?" he called again, looking back at the cold keys in his hand. Pulling the driver's door shut, Dean dragged himself back across the seat and got out of the Impala. "Sam!" Stumbling back to the honky-tonk, he practically fell into the door and barely made it to the bar before his legs gave out. Using the bar for support, he stared at the petite, blonde girl behind the counter. 

"Back for another round?" she asked, wiping a glass out and placing it back under the counter. She flashed him a white smile. 

"No," replied Dean distractedly, rubbing his thumb across the key in his hand. "Did the guy I was with come back in?"

"No," said the blonde seductively, "but my shift ends soon, and I could keep you company until he comes back."

"You don't understand!" stressed Dean. "I _need_ to find him!" He leaned over the counter some more and stared at the girl pleadingly. 

"Well," snapped the girl, "I didn't know you like _that_!" She turned away from Dean and continued to angrily wipe glasses and put them away. It took awhile for Dean's drunken brain to register the meaning of her words.

"I am not gay!"

The girl snorted. "Yeah right. If he ditches you, I can easily find you a replacement that's worth your money." Dean's mouth opened to retaliate, but as soon as he did, he felt a wave of nausea come over him. He closed his mouth and somehow made it to the door without falling dead on his face. His legs were shaking so badly that he had to grip the doorway so he wouldn't fall into the mud outside. 

Once he made it outside, Dean stumbled toward the Impala in a haze. He barely got there before he fell on all fours and upchucked whatever was in his stomach. After he finished dry-heaving, Dean used the bumper of the Impala to climb back to his feet. Everything around him had taken on a dreamlike haze to it. The street lights that illuminated the muddy parking lot seemed brighter than before, the laughing and thumping of music coming from the honky-tonk was louder to. It felt like he was floating as he pulled himself along, using the Impala for support. Dean tried to open the driver's door, but before he could open it, everything around him went black. 


	2. Gone

"Dean? Dean, wake up dammit! You're scaring us!"

"Mom, what if...."

"Don't say that. Don't every say that!"

"He could be, Ellen."

"No, he's not."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a mother, I just know."

"Please stop," mumbled a barely audible Dean.

Dean's voice sounded so far away from himself. He wasn't if his mouth moved when he spoke and his tongue felt like it had a rock inside of it. His head pounded with each pulse of his heart, letting him know he was alive, and the light stung his eyes. He tried to sit up, but only managed to roll over and vomit. A cool hand rested against his fevered skin, and another wiped his mouth. An unknown force rolled him back over and helped him sit up. Out of nowhere, water rushed into his mouth, moistening it. Dean forced his eyes open against the light and shut them fast.

"Dean, what is it?"

"The light," he replied, his voice scratchy and faint. The light dimmed, and he forced his eyes open again. Through a blurry haze, Dean was able to make out three figures, two of which were sitting near him. 

"Honey, can you hear me?" He nodded. Ellen's voice was muffled somewhat, but it still had that sound of seeing too many cigarettes and alcohol.

"Mom, should I go get more blankets?" That voice was Jo's, sounding so voice sweet and innocent. "He's still shaking."

"I want to know what happened."---Bobby. He sounded a little bit worried and very disapproved.

"I think we all do," said Ellen. She laid Dean back down on the bed. 

"I'll go get some more blankets," said Jo, more to herself more than anyone else. Footsteps clunked across the wooden floor, and a door with creaky hinges was opened and closed with a soft snap. Bobby and Ellen until the footsteps outside, in the hall, had faded away. Ellen pulled the blankets up to Dean's chin. Dean realized that it wasn't someone else shaking the bed, it was him. 

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Ellen inquired, laying the back of her hand against Dean's forehead. "Who did this?"

"Have you been drinking, boy?" asked Bobby 

"Please, my head hurts too much for _Twenty Questions_ ," croaked Dean, coughing a little.

"Then that must be one hell of a hangover," stated Bobby, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. "Boy, I could just slap you. Do you know how bad it looked when we found you?'

"Let me guess. I could be in Michael Jackson's _Thriller_ video," coughed Dean sarcastically as he could. Ellen shook her head. 

"What happened? If it....." started Ellen.

"If it hadn't been for me, then you would have been back in Hell," drawled a voice from the doorway. Ellen stood up beside the cot and Dean got a full view of who was speaking. Dressed in her usual leather jacket and skin clinging t-shirt, Ruby smirked at him as she leaned against the doorway with her arms folded. 

"Thank-you," said Dean. Ruby looked shock until he added, "bitch."

"Well," she said, with a sarcastic scoff in her voice, "looks like Mr. Grumpy-pants is back."

"Alive and in person," replied Dean, sitting up. His head didn't pound and the light didn't hurt his eyes anymore. He swung his legs over the side of the cot, but when he tried to stand, he found that his legs didn't work very well. He would have fallen over if it hadn't been for Bobby and Ellen. As they lowered him back onto the cot, Dean glowered at Ruby, who had come to stand over him still smirking.

"When will this wear off?" he asked her.

"Not for a few days," she replied walking away from him to stare out of the window. He watched her for a few minutes and then something snapped in his slow-moving brain.

"Where's Sam?" he asked, looking from Ellen, to Bobby, to Ruby. Ruby didn't look at him, Ellen looked down and fidgeted with the blankets, and Bobby was the only one who answered him.

"Dean, the place you two were at was a joint like The Roadhouse," he informed Dean. "There were a fair bit of hunters in there, and you and Sam aren't exactly buddy buddy with most hunters."

"So you're saying Sam was snatched by hunters?"

"Could be."

"He wasn't." Ruby turned to look at Dean. He stared back, confused.

"Then who took him?" he asked worriedly.

"Vampyres."

Dean scoffed. Ruby raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe me?"

"Well," said Dean skeptically, "it seems a little out of whack."

"Don't believe me then," snapped Ruby sarcastically. "You're the one that met them."

"Since when do I hang out with vampyres?"

"Since you offered one of them your bed." Dean frowned and shook his head.

"No way I offer anything to a vampyre except a guillotine."

"You were too drugged to know what you were doing," retorted Ruby.

"So vampyres snagged Sam," Ellen interjected, look at Ruby. Ruby slid her eyes from Dean to Ellen.

"Yes."

"Why?" asked Bobby. "What in the world could vampyres want with Sam."

"Maybe the same thing ol' Yellow Eyes wanted," said Dean, wobbling a bit as he stood up. Ellen gripped his elbow to steady him.

"To take over an army of demons?" asked Bobby skeptically, now raising his eyebrow. "That drug must have screwed your brain up, Dean." Dean hobbled, with the help of Ellen, to Ruby, who was still by the window.

"Where is this coven?" He leaned on the windowsill for support.

"No idea," she replied cooly.

She glanced at Dean and saw something like "dammit bitch" written across his face. "But before you knock my head off, you should know something," she continued, examining her fingernails. " _You_ know someone who might."

"Who?"

"Lenore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's worth mentioning that this is blonde Ruby (cause she is my favorite Ruby) and this is set during season 2 (I believe).
> 
> I wrote this fanfiction over ten years ago (I think 2008/2009) and I can't find find my original copy that has my notes with it, so I'm transcribing this from where I originally posted it. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this second chapter. Leave kudos and comments and check out my other fanfics if you have the time!


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